Struggle
by Scoot's Canoe
Summary: A very sadistic RED Medic has his fun with a helpless BLU Scout.
1. Medic's Fun

RED Medic bit down into the flesh of his victim, savoring the blood on his teeth and watching as a colorful bruise like watercolors blossomed from the wound on the BLU Scout's neck. He loosened his grip on the boy's shoulders and looked him square in the eyes with a sadistic grin, his eyes flashing. Scout trembled at the icy stare and grimaced at the pain, biting down on the gag. Medic laid his hands around the boy's neck, choking him and making his eyes to fly open. Medic shoved him over onto his back by his neck onto the operating table and assumed a position over him, smiling. He pinned the smaller mercenary down and took a scalpel from a table to the right of the table. Scout panicked, and despite being exhausted from about an hour of struggling, he screamed into the gag with a raspy muffled voice and kicked helplessly and Medic held him down. "Feisty little one, aren't you?" Medic cooed. He took the scalpel and carefully cut Scout's shirt, grazing his tender skin. "Stop struggling, you'll get hurt. Unless that's what you want.."

Medic pulled Scout's shirt over his head, cutting the sleeves that got caught on Scout's tied rope-burned wrists. Medic leaned over and sucked on the tender skin on the boy's neck, causing him to jolt and bite down on Medic's tie, which he had used as a gag. Medic smiled against the soft skin and bit into the flesh, moving slowly down Scout's body. He felt the boy's ribs, counting them in his head. He continued moving down, eventually reaching the BLU's waist. Scout's mind raced and he breathed quick, terrified of this situation. Scout's face flushed and he attempted to scream again, his voice getting caught in his throat.

The doctor picked his scalpel up again. "This is when things get fun." He placed the cold edge on Scout's chest, in the dead center. Scout screamed horribly and twitched and kicked as Medic dug the sharp scalpel deep into his chest, pulling it down and slicing the tender skin open, watching as the blood filled the crevice and spilled over. He leaned over the boy and gently licked the blood off, savoring each drop. He pulled open the wound to examine the insides of the enemy, stroking the tender flesh, stained red. Scout convulsed, his vision going spotty and his struggling diminishing. Medic noticed this and decided he wanted Scout to remember his face as he respawned. Medic laid on top of Scout, the warm guts on his stomach staining his lab coat. He looked the boy in the eyes with a violent grin and held the BLU's neck. He tightened his grip and closed the airway, causing the boy to cough and sputter, his eyes bulging and hands clawing for air, sweet fresh air to revive him. Medic removed the gag and kissed him softly as he died. Scout stopped moving all together, his fluttering heart slowly coming to a stop and his racing pulse ending. Medic continued kissing the corpse, savoring the flavor of blood and death spreading on his tongue. Medic got up and stepped back to admire his handiwork, and wondered how he would clean up the mess.


	2. Scout's Trauma

RED Scout's senses were numb and he was dizzy. The blinding white lights and the strong smell of rubbing alcohol assaulted his senses. He blinked slowly, feeling as if he was floating away. He moved his hand. He could hardly feel it, he was reaching for nothing and everything. His ears rung loudly and his vision was blurred, but he was so cold he couldn't sit there any longer. Sitting up suddenly, he jolted himself awake. He was in the respawn room. He would remember his cause of death soon, even though the respawn has a way of fogging memories and leaving recently dead people ignorant of trauma. Scout stretched, dizzy and thristy. His own breath startled him, as it was deathly quiet. That means he hadn't been battling, or else others would have been there with him. He hopped off the uncomfortable table and stumbled out of the blinding white room. His face was slack and dazed, but he was scared. What he was afraid of he did not know, it was probably for the better.

The RED team had just won and the majority of the REDs was sitting and laughing boistrously at the dining table, save for the elusive Spy, who was probably doing something more important, and the antisocial Sniper, who typically ate by himself in his camper van. There was an empty seat next to Soldier and Pyro, both of which were a bit difficult to sit by. Scout slumped into the remaining seat, which had a plate set out in front of it, and chewed quietly. He glanced up, scanning the team in a feeble attempt to join the conversation. Although they were talking loud, Scout's senses were dulled and he could only listen to the slow and muffled breaths coming from Pyro and his own racing thoughts. He sat solemnly for a bit, dryly chewing his food.

Medic laughed, a horrible gut wrenching laugh that chilled Scout and made him choke on his food. He jolted up and noticed that nobody else was reacting the same way as him. Are they fearless? What's wrong with Medic's face? He blinked and saw blue mixed with the red of Medic's gloves. His tie was blue for a split second, and the red on his hands had splattered on his horrible face. Lifeless eyes peered at him for that awful split second. He rubbed his eyes and Medic was looking at him. His eyes were no longer like ice, they were concerned. "Are you ok, Scout? You don't look too well." Scout shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, doc. I'm good." He took a swig of water and decided to stand up. "I'm gonna lay down for a bit, 'kay?" He avoided looking Medic in the eye as he stumbled to his room.


End file.
